We are in similar situations and I have been awake nights wondering if I should stop before I pop out with "not moobs."
I have decided to continue full steam ahead. It's my body, and I'll sprout if I want to.
My wife loves me and encourages me to be and have the body I feel I need, but I have a straight-laced extended family. That part scares me.
I shave my legs and epilate my arms and kept them bare for the first time this summer. I got noticed and questioned... my reply was... yep, they're shaved, I like them that way... feels cleaner. I then proceed to go over and sit by my wife.
And that was the end of it.
As far as the "Christian" "love everybody but gay people" mentality goes, I think that the fact that I am married, have kids, go to church, have a job, and generally don't act gay (which I'm not BTW) sort of short circuits them. Okay, he has bald arms and legs... weird. Then they went on gossiping about something more interesting.
I don't plan to come to Thanksgiving in a prairie dress, and they really don't need to know that part of me. If they notice I have C cups next year, my planned answer will probably be something like, "yeah, I dunno, they just grew there." Which, of course, they did.
Do they need to know that I applied plenty of fertilizer to get them... no. Do they need to know about my TG inner turmoil? No. Do I plan to transition? Hell no... I've known this part of me from as early as I can remember and I have made peace. I got a manbody this time, that does not mean I have a mansoul. I think I am supposed to learn something from this during this life. So be it.
I can remember the red-hot anger I felt when my sister got dresses and I was forced to wear boy clothes. I spent a lot of my life whining about the unfairness of the universe for putting me in this body which so clearly did not fit my brain, but I chose to marry.
In my teen years I really considered flipping to the other side, but that was the 80s, and I saw that most of the trans women out there really didn't pass, and I could never be a woman... not really, not truly, not ever. And strangely, I wanted to be a woman, but I wasn't gay. I tried. Yuck. Sorry, couldn't do it.
So, by the grace of God, I met a woman who loved me and I loved her back and I tried to stick it out in the manbody. I cracked about two years ago and we talked and researched so much we could write a book.
And here I am, at 41, going through my second adolescence as a girl. She is very sympathetic (or is it empathetic?) about the pains and moodiness.
If you have a wife who understands, or one person in the world who is with you thick or thin, stand or fall, that is really the only person you need to let into your head. Everyone else can just causally remark and you can give them the short answer.
Hope this helps.
I have decided to continue full steam ahead. It's my body, and I'll sprout if I want to.
My wife loves me and encourages me to be and have the body I feel I need, but I have a straight-laced extended family. That part scares me.
I shave my legs and epilate my arms and kept them bare for the first time this summer. I got noticed and questioned... my reply was... yep, they're shaved, I like them that way... feels cleaner. I then proceed to go over and sit by my wife.
And that was the end of it.
As far as the "Christian" "love everybody but gay people" mentality goes, I think that the fact that I am married, have kids, go to church, have a job, and generally don't act gay (which I'm not BTW) sort of short circuits them. Okay, he has bald arms and legs... weird. Then they went on gossiping about something more interesting.
I don't plan to come to Thanksgiving in a prairie dress, and they really don't need to know that part of me. If they notice I have C cups next year, my planned answer will probably be something like, "yeah, I dunno, they just grew there." Which, of course, they did.
Do they need to know that I applied plenty of fertilizer to get them... no. Do they need to know about my TG inner turmoil? No. Do I plan to transition? Hell no... I've known this part of me from as early as I can remember and I have made peace. I got a manbody this time, that does not mean I have a mansoul. I think I am supposed to learn something from this during this life. So be it.
I can remember the red-hot anger I felt when my sister got dresses and I was forced to wear boy clothes. I spent a lot of my life whining about the unfairness of the universe for putting me in this body which so clearly did not fit my brain, but I chose to marry.
In my teen years I really considered flipping to the other side, but that was the 80s, and I saw that most of the trans women out there really didn't pass, and I could never be a woman... not really, not truly, not ever. And strangely, I wanted to be a woman, but I wasn't gay. I tried. Yuck. Sorry, couldn't do it.
So, by the grace of God, I met a woman who loved me and I loved her back and I tried to stick it out in the manbody. I cracked about two years ago and we talked and researched so much we could write a book.
And here I am, at 41, going through my second adolescence as a girl. She is very sympathetic (or is it empathetic?) about the pains and moodiness.
If you have a wife who understands, or one person in the world who is with you thick or thin, stand or fall, that is really the only person you need to let into your head. Everyone else can just causally remark and you can give them the short answer.
Hope this helps.